


The Frog Prince - Hannibal AU

by JD_Riley



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #HannibalEverAfter, #HannibalEverAfter2018, Alternate Universe, Fantasy, Frog Prince Hannibal, Frottage, M/M, Princess and the Frog, fairy tale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 04:05:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13651071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JD_Riley/pseuds/JD_Riley
Summary: Prince William's favorite small charm, a little golden ball, ends up at the bottom of the castle's decorative pond.  A nearby frog politely offers to fetch it for him in exchange for a small favor or two.  As unsettling as a frog that speaks like a man can be, the Prince can hardly pass up the offer for him to fetch it, but neglects to ask the frog what he wishes for before the favor is owed...





	The Frog Prince - Hannibal AU

It was gold and it was gleaming and it glimmered like a tiny sun in his hands when he fiddled with it in the gardens. There were far too many people who trounced in and out of the castle everyday for court and for alms that Will was often to be found seeking out the lonely places outside where the common folk could not tread among the thistles and the honeysuckle. As he wandered and walked, he plucked the small golden ball from his pocket and felt it and wondered at its softness and its maker. Was it pure? Was it merely gilded? He had often kept it with him and played with it, having come by it as a gift from his father when he was young enough that it could not be fully covered by his hand when he held it. Now, he palmed it before tossing it into the air and catching it in a practiced move that tickled him each time he did it.

He did it again as he wandered along the stone path next to the small decorative pond covered in green lily pads and singing with the songs of peeping frogs. In his small bit of arrogance, he tossed the ball up much higher than he normally did and when he reached to catch it again, found himself having miscalculated by a small bit, the heavy ball just barely brushing the tips of his fingers and plunking down into the dark water between two lily pads.

“Oh no!” he murmured, the weight of the loss not fully registering at first. When one was the Prince, it was not so difficult to get _another_ of something but this? This was something that was a mere charm—how should he mention that he wished for another without the King himself scoffing at the sentiment? No. He would have to gather _this very one_ from the bottom of the pond. How deep the pond was, however, he was unsure.

Looking down at his royal dress, he slowly began by taking off his boots. Testing the water, he shivered at the cold just as a cloud passed over the sun and took away the warmth of the afternoon. It wouldn't do. Fetching a small stick, he tested the depths, unaware as to how comical he must have appeared to any passersby, missing his boots and standing about in his bare feet with a stick stuck up from the mud of a pond. Finding it much too deep to simply reach in, he turned himself about and sat upon the stone wall, sighing his dejection. He was just about to admit defeat when he heard a strange voice from beside him.

“Do you not know how to swim, Prince?”

He stood, looking all about for the odd voice and finding no one. Alarmed and confused, he called out. “Who's there?! Show yourself!”

“I am here. Under your very nose. Upon the wall. I apologize for my unseemly appearance, you must understand, we cannot all be gifted with such beauty as yourself.”

Will was not prepared by any means to find himself talking not to a man but to a _frog_. As far as frogs went, the thing was handsome enough, he thought. But that it could _speak to him—_ it was unnerving to say the least. He had never before met a frog that could speak though there was talk sometimes from the royal hunters of such things as harpies and unicorns. Perhaps a frog that could speak as a man could speak was not so strange after all. He swallowed and made to answer the squat little thing.

“Thank you, Sir Frog...for your compliment. And yes, I can swim. Though it is not the warmest of days though it is summer and I am loathe to disrobe when it is so chilly.”

“Have you lost something, Prince?” the frog asked patiently, its shining black eyes examining him as two glass beads.

“I have,” he admitted, surprised at himself. “I've lost my little golden ball. It was a gift, you see, and I'd very much like to get it back.”

“I could get it back for you.”

Will stood up straighter, surprised. “That would be quite lovely of you, if you would.”

“I shall not do it for free,” the frog told him, his deep voice tinged with warning.

Entirely undaunted, Will waved his hand in the air. “I am Prince of this kingdom. I should be more than ready to repay a debt.” He chuckled to himself. After all, what could a frog wish for that he could not readily provide?

“Very well then, Prince. I consider it a promise.” With that, the fat little frog jumped into the water and was gone for a few moments before he returned, the shining golden ball clutched tight to his squishy body.

Delighted, Will lifted the frog from the water and set him down on the stone edge of the pond, retrieving his charm with a small laugh of contentment. “Well done!” he cheered. “What a pleasant gentleman frog I've found! Thank you for your favor, Sir Frog.”

“Ah!” the frog warned again. “I have done no favors for you, Prince. I am owed.”

“Oh yes,” he laughed, dropping the ball into his pocket. “And what is it that a frog could wish of me?”

If the creature could have appeared wistful, he did, and his voice was suddenly filled with a secret longing. “I wish only to dine with you, my Prince, and read with you, and sleep upon your pillow, and feel your lips in a kiss goodnight.”

It was at this that Will balked. How was he to excuse a frog at the table to sup? When he was a boy, surely such things were expected and forgiven but now that he was a man, he was certainly _not_ expected to present a _garden creature_ at the dining table of the King. “You cannot be serious,” he argued. “We do not dine upon flies or spiders at the royal table, sir frog.”

“I care not. You have promised.”

Will felt the prick of regret stinging at him. He should have asked the terms of the deal far before he had allowed the thing to fetch his charm. With a grumble, he relented. “Very well. I will allow it.”

Happily, the frog gave a slight nod and then plopped himself back down into the pond and disappeared from sight.

For the rest of the day, he could not bring himself to play again with the charm in his pocket, feeling peeved about its presence there and tempted even to toss it into the fields outside the castle for all the trouble it will have caused him once supper rolled around. He could not, nevertheless, for when he felt the heavy weight in his pocket, he was still, at the very least, grateful to have it and scared that somehow he should find a talking field mouse who should wish for something equally as difficult to comprehend as repayment to fetch it once more.

For all his nervousness, it seemed as if it was to be for naught when he sat down at the table and had not seen a hint of Sir Frog. Though, just as his heart was beginning to ease of its tension, he heard a tiny tapping sound in the stillness of the dining room that caught his ear and the royal guard's. The guard opened the heavy wooden door to the room and in hopped the fat little round frog.

“Oh no,” Will blurted, standing up quickly and taking the small thing in hand and depositing him on the other side of the door, closing it quickly before anyone could hear the thing speak.

“Will?” his father asked in a calm though concerned tone. “Was that a _frog_?”

“Yes,” he stated shortly, sitting back down stiffly in his seat and wishing to never speak of the event again.

“And there is a frog tapping upon the door for you?”

He felt his cheeks grow pink. “I must confess. I...I've done something foolish. I've made a promise that I cannot keep.”

The King leaned back in his seat, steepling his fingers and studying his son. “To a frog.”

“Yes. That he should dine with me.”

His bearded face split into a soft smile. “A King must never go back upon his word, William. And nor should a Prince. Fetch the frog. He shall dine with you.”

Slowly, as he did not wish to, Will stood from his seat and nervously eased open the door, finding the frog happy to hop into the room. He considered, for a moment, merely stepping on the thing to keep it from embarrassing him so but could not bring himself to be so needlessly cruel to the small creature who had so graciously returned something dear to him. Perhaps he could live if it was just this that rankled him for a night.

The frog ate in silence, offered his own helping of roast duck cut into small pieces for him and set upon a small delicate saucer meant for teacups. If Will could imagine him smiling, he was certain that was exactly what the animal was doing even as he gulped up the small pieces of fowl, as graceful as a frog could manage.

“Have you promised more to the charming frog?” the King asked Will, clearly tickled by the events at his table.

His shoulders sagged. “I...I have promised him that he should read with me and sleep upon my pillow...”

“Then it will be, William.”

After he had taken supper, he was dismayed to find the frog still at his heels, following him to his bedchamber and clamoring upon his counterpane as he chose a book to peruse before he slept. Finding the squishy fat thing contentedly squatting upon his pillow, he scooped it up and placed it upon the wide stone windowsill and left it there before he threw off most of his clothes save his drawers and climbed into his bed to read by the candlelight.

“Prince,” the frog spoke, startling him again with his deep and strange voice. “You have forgotten me here.”

“I didn't forget you,” he snapped.

“You intend to leave me here?”

“Yes.”

“But your promise...”

Will glared at the thing that sat still and ominous upon the stone sill, angry at it for using his honor as a blade against his own throat. To have a creature that spent all of its time swimming in the _pond_ be so close to his head as he slept—it was unsettling. Still, he swallowed his pride and reached for the frog, picking him up gently from the sill and placing him upon his lap so that he might be able to see the words in the book illuminated by the candlelight.

“Thank you, Prince,” the frog sighed, settling in and studying the page. “I do dearly love these grand adventuring tales.”

Unable to help his curiosity, Will murmured down at the frog. “And you? Have you gone upon any great adventures, Sir Frog? Or have you always lived in my garden?”

“Your garden has been a haven for me, sweet Prince,” the frog told him. “I have watched you year by year, you and your little golden ball. It was an adventure that brought me to you, no doubt. One rife with danger.”

Will was distracted from the page. “Rife with danger? I suppose any hawk should be a great danger to you, Sir Frog. Where from did you hail?”

“A great kingdom to the east, my Lord. I had traveled many a long day when my caravan was beset upon by a great bear in the wood. My guard had foolishly killed her cub and she gave a great battle and I was lost to the wood.”

“Your guard!” Will laughed, imagining small frogs with tiny hats and coats and swords. “Such a grand tale for such a little creature.”

“Ah. I was not always a little creature. I was cursed, and not lightly, by a witch of the wood. It was mere providence that should have led me to your garden and your pond, my Prince. If not for your castle and your simple childish charm, I should have given up and perished long ago. But you and you alone have given me strength enough to ask for your favor and for a small token of your affection if you will spare it before I sleep. I am, as it were, deeply enamored by you.”

Will found himself flushing a deep scarlet at the frog's confession, confused and left reeling by the tale of witches and curses. Surely it could not be so fantastical—after all, he was a frog who spoke like a man. Was it not so difficult to assume that at one time, he could have _been_ one? He swallowed again. “Enamored? Of me?” He gave a shy laugh. “You are absurd, Sir Frog.”

“Perhaps,” he conceded. “But I have known you for long enough, little Prince, that I am no stranger to the whim of your affections. Your...predilections, as they are.”

He frowned. “You tease me, Sir Frog. And not nicely.”

“I cannot stand upon high ground, Prince, I am enraptured by you. Your attentions toward men hold no meaning to me save that I hold hope that one day I should return to my true form and hold you if you might have me.”

“You are absurd again, Sir Frog,” he mumbled, petulantly blowing out the candle at his bedside and plunging them both into darkness with the tang of the freshly snuffed light in his nose. He lay back among his pillows and felt the fat little frog hop off of him and up to his pillow beside his head.

“You have kept your promises until now, my Prince. Will you not spare me one token of your affection so I should never have to wonder about the softness of your lips again?”

“Will you not bother me for it again, Sir Frog?”

“The one, only, I beg.”

“Very well,” he said, gently searching with his fingers in the darkness until he found the cool flesh of the creature and cupped the giving softness in his hand to steady him while he leaned and pressed his lips between the bulging eyes. “Goodnight, Sir Frog.”

“Hannibal,” came the response, softly and murmured with such sadness that Will was struck by it for a moment.

“Hannibal...” he said, turning over among his pillows to face away from the creature who now had a name and was thus not easily forgotten.

Pressed into a fitful sleep fraught with strange and bewildering dreams, Will awoke sometime in the earliest of the morning when it was still dark but the birds were giving darling chirps from the trees and a cool summer breeze was flowing in from his window and swaying the heavy tapestries. He had thought that the strong and finely woven arms around him had been a fragment of those bizarre nightmares but as he grew ever-increasingly aware of his wokened state, he was alarmed to find them very much tangible and so in his sudden panic, he twisted his body to find himself cushioned by a dozing and very nude man. Will's heart beat hard and worked its way into his throat as he beheld and studied the man that held him, his features distinct and utterly familiar from his wide-set mouth to the sharpness of his stark cheekbones. No doubt did Will have that if he were to open his eyes, he would find them to be like two glinting glass beads.

“Hannibal...” he muttered in awe, the pads of his fingers gently pressing into the crisp and yet soft whorls of hair that dusted the man's chest.

He stirred, the former plain frog and now elegant naked man beside him, and murmured in his sleep before he came awake and was suddenly aware of this great change in his body.

“Ah. Prince,” he smiled indulgently, “you are as beautiful in the mornings as I have always dreamed.”

“You are not a frog,” Will told him blankly.

“I have you to thank, little Prince. It was only by the strength of your kiss that I have been released from my curse.”

“And all this for a golden charm,” Will smiled wryly. “To kiss a frog and in the morning to...” He stretched, reaching up to grasp Hannibal's shoulder and press his lips softly upon that wide-set mouth for just one moment. “To kiss a...”

“A Prince,” Hannibal whispered. “A lost Prince but a Prince all the same. One day I shall take you there...to my Kingdom.”

“And if I should rather you stay in mine?” Will asked him, staring at his mouth and wishing to claim it again.

“Then I shall love you wherever you shall let me.”

“Here, then,” Will told him, courage and desire flooding through his long-neglected soul. “Love me here. Now.”

“As you wish, my Prince,” he said, rolling above him and pressing him down against the softness of his bed and layering his solid naked body atop him. He was gentle and utilized every ounce of affection he held with his heavenly assault of kisses and blessing touches that sparked fire and tingling need in Will's pale flesh.

“ _Ahn!_ ” He had been stripped of his drawers before he had even known it and was red-faced with his blatant arousal, his member certainly not as ashamed as he was to be standing at attention and engorged with such passion and greed. When the satiny flesh of it met with that of Hannibal's own shaft, he felt his jaw drop with the mere thought of their touch. How absurd, he thought. How strange was this life that there should be such a sensation! And when Hannibal had wet himself with saliva and taken them both in hand to stroke and play, Will was overcome with his intense delight, forgetting entirely that he had nearly almost stepped upon the creature that would have bestowed upon him such rapturous joys.

“Kiss me again, Prince,” Hannibal sighed and panted as his hips canted to better press their groins together within his hands stroking measures. “Forever will I treasure your lips as my savior and forever I shall remember them here and now in this glorious morning when I awoke to find you with me.”

Will twined his arms around Hannibal's neck and brought him down into a fiery exchange of wet sounds and caressing tongues. His blood was alight, boiling in his veins as he felt the rising waves of release mounting and growing ever higher to crash and foam on the shores of his Kingdom. His back arched and he was forced to break from the passion of his Frog Prince's lips as he threw back his head and cried out his climax, jetting ropes of his spend and mixing it with that of his lover upon his chest and belly. He panted as the first of the sun ripened the sky and that dim light shined over the pearly mess over his soft flesh.

“Oh...” he sighed, staring up at the planes of Hannibal's face and the tousled locks of his fine blonde hair. “I shall never doubt a frog again.”

“No?” Hannibal asked, lovingly cleaning Will's chest with his discarded drawers. “I shall hold you to that, my Prince.”

Will smiled up at him, his heart full. “Then I shall count on it that you do, Sir Frog.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my goodness. I never write fanfiction and I have not seen a single episode of Hannibal. **Eat me alive, Fannibals. <3**


End file.
